I'm told my blogs are entertaining, so even though I think they are too negative I guess I'm going to continue writing them.

Things have been kind of up and down lately, which is to be expected I guess. I think I've gotten better, but I'm not sure if it's improvement or just change. My life has definitely regained some stability and I'm sure that's helping quite a bit. But I still don't feel like myself. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm depressed and I've stopped denying how down I really am. Sometimes I tinker on the line of self-pity but I try to be vigilant and positive. It's exhausting.

When I first took time off work my biggest concern was my anxiety. I just couldn't handle being at work; it was nearly impossible to try to pull myself together and appear normal. I felt like I was barely able to keep my head above water and at some point I really couldn't. I didn't feel well on my days off either, but I was certainly more at peace than when I was at the center. I knew I was not happy with my job but I'm not sure I really recognized how miserable it was making me. Beyond it being a horrible work environment I'm generally dissatisfied by where I am career wise. I don't have any sense of pride in what I do and I expect myself to be doing something more. I didn't struggle through 4 years of college to work somewhere that requires me to have a high school diploma. What happened to my ambition?

When I started back at Biolife I was given a very strong impression that they intended to take me beyond a line staff position. I was encouraged to apply for a few different positions immediately and was optimistic that I might be able to make something more out of my time there. I probably should have figured out last summer that this wasn't the case, but I was distracted with planning and paying for a wedding. Even when I was made full time I think they were just trying to pacify me. Not to sound arrogant, but I was passed over for positions I was far more qualified for than other applicants. I think that's about the time I started to realize I hated everything about my job and that center. And it's not even worth explaining how horrible the management team has become...once Jeff left the whole center went to hell. My experience with the center has left me angry, disgusted, and disappointed. Mostly with myself.

I'm ready to go beyond this sort of job, but I'm scared to take that step. I don't really see my particular degree landing me a job I'll actually like...or at least not one that would fit into the lifestyle I'd like (schedule wise). Now more than ever I need stability in my life, not ever changing shifts or crazy paced projects. So where I do I go from here? The easy answer is back to school but I don't think I should be making such a huge decision right now. People shouldn't commit to life changing experiences while depressed, the results are often less than perfect. So I'm waiting. I'm also not entirely certain how we'd pay for such an endeavor, although Joe doesn't seem concerned about this at all. I trust his judgment, but I still worry.

I fear the possibility of failure if I chose to take this path. Pursuing my first bachelor's degree was a train wreck. I'm too intelligent to have earned the grades that appear on my transcripts and to have abandoned a profession that I've wanted to pursue since I was 14. I convinced myself that I wouldn't like it, that I hated everything about it. And I really did hate my classes, but in retrospect I know that it wasn't because of the content. It was because I couldn't tackle them. I couldn't keep myself together. Not to knock all of us poli sci majors out there, but it's a degree that is much much easier to obtain. The difference is beyond measurement. I'm glad that I managed to graduate, but in the end my current degree means little to me without the other; I'd always intended them to compliment each other. College defeated me...sometimes it occurs to me that I was lucky to make it out alive. So even though the circumstances are completely different and I know that the only one I'd be disappointing is myself I'm terrified of screwing it up again. At some point in my life I have to start accepting that the people that love me don't love me for my accomplishments.

I don't want to go back to my job at Biolife. That's not to say I don't want to go back to working once I'm healthy enough to do so. I still hate being unable to work...it would be totally different if I was home with a broken leg or something. I'm tormented by my own personal stigma of mental illness...one minute I'll be certain I can return to work and to next I'm curled up in a ball praying for the panic to pass or the meds to work. The roller coaster of it all is so frustrating and I'm not sure I'll ever be convinced that people understand.

I don't want to convince myself that I shouldn't go back to my current job, but the fact is that a majority of my panic attacks are preceded by thoughts of going to work. Apparently they thought I was coming back this week and I found out on Friday that I was on the schedule, full time. I have many issues with this - first, were they going to tell me I was scheduled? Did they think I would just magically know that I was supposed to come to work? Second, full time? Are you kidding me? Third, the idea of being back in that center scares the shit out of me. I can't even answer the phone when they call. I had to have Joe check my voice mail for me. It's not about going back to work, it's about going back to Biolife.

So at this point I'd rather quit my job than return when my health improves. But then what? We're moving in July...finding a new job seems idiotic to me. Not only would I have a hard time finding such a short term job but I'm not too excited about the prospect of being tied to a job in which I'm not invested. We intend to use our remaining time in the UP to enjoy our surroundings and our family. I'm not going to give that up for some temporary job that means nothing to me or my future. This problem presents itself at Biolife as well. I had to use all of my vacation before I used my disability. This means I'd have no time to go to North Carolina for house hunting, no time to spend on Grand Island, no free weekends for camping or going downstate to see Joe's parents, no time off to attend Kristy's bridal shower. And if I go back part-time I'll still end up working 4-5 days a week because part-timers do short shifts in the afternoon. This is not acceptable to me. We can survive without my paycheck, but it will be difficult to do all of these activities without a second income. Still, I think I would rather be poor than miss the opportunity to enjoy our remaining time here. On the priority list of life money doesn't rank very high for me.

On the plus side of things my irritability has decreased, which I'm sure is a huge relief to Joe. I've also think that I'm getting better at interacting with Mastin (Dee's son) when he's here. It's really easy to get pissy at a five year old because, well, he's five. He's got more energy in his pinky than I do in my entire body in a week. I really hated that I was annoyed by him so much because he's a really sweet kid. It wasn't just him of course...the list of people that I've been bitchy about isn't exactly short and the younger you are the higher you are on the list. I mean I have a brand new nephew and I think I've held him for a total of 10 minutes. I've been avoiding children (and certain adults) like the plague. Since when do I not like kids, seriously? I was once everyone's favorite aunt and now I'm avoiding them? That's not me, and yet it's been my attitude for a long time.

I have less generalized anxiety but have had a significant increase in panic attacks...I can't decide which is worse. I certainly hated being antsy and worried all the time. You know that feeling you get when you get pulled over? That's what its like all the time. So I don't miss that, obviously. But panic attacks are no picnic. In truth they're terrifying. Most of the time I can get through them on my own but there are times when I feel so horrible that I can't believe I'm going to get through it. These are the ones that require a lot of xanax and knock me out. It's strange the kind of physical stress it puts your body through. And it seems like these are the ones that happen when I'm by myself and everyone else is at work and unavailable. I'm only going to call Joe at work bawling my eyes out so many times, my Mom stresses me out, and my sister(s) are at work. So I try to deal (save it Laura, I can only find so many people to hang out with during the day).

My last thing I'm going to complain about today is that I'm bored. So bored. Heinously bored. I'm not one to sit still (especially not right now!) but I'm out of ideas. I've been trying to read, started making jewelry, have been hitting the gym, and have been trying to get outside and take walks. My weekends are generally my best days. I've been seeing friends and family a lot more. But I've also lost interest in a lot of things - cooking, baking, writing to my Grandma, stuff like that. I need to figure out how to expand the number of things I can actually find joy in, because Joe coming home from work can't be the only thing I look forward to anymore.